


Au Coin du Feu

by VickyStark



Category: Sherlock Holmes (Downey films)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-21 07:22:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30018201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VickyStark/pseuds/VickyStark
Summary: "You... you're staying?""Of course I'm staying. You're not the only one sick. " She finished the sentence with a face deformed by a grimace, a sneeze about to explode in Holmes' face.
Relationships: Irene Adler/Sherlock Holmes
Kudos: 5





	Au Coin du Feu

**Author's Note:**

> Hi ya'll!  
> English isn't my first language and I wrote this a few years ago, when I was beginning to write fiction.   
> I chose not to modify it too much, I think it's cute as it is.

Disclaimer: Sherlock Holmes characters as shown in the adaptation of Guy Ritchie are not mine, I'm just borrowing them briefly.

This time of year, London was covered with a thick, white and pristine cloak. Throwing brief glances around to make sure she was not followed, the famous thief tightened her coat around her frail form, shivering under the assault of icy wind.

Her hand tightened around the precious stone. A mischievous smile appeared on the face of Irene, imagining the disappointed and furious look that his employer would have when he'd understand that he had been misled ridiculously.

The smile faded quickly, however, the capricious weather of London making itself known once again. Groaning and cursing against the snow that had seeped into her boots and drowned her feet, she drummed against the door that read 221B Baker Street.

"I am not sick."

Followed a resounding sneeze, snatching a stifled cry from the patient. Holmes sniffed pathetically, tightening the blanket around his shivering form.

"Obviously." Irene rolled her eyes, approaching the bedridden shape at a rapid pace.

Dark shadows coated the detective's ordinary sharp eyes, in its current state they were glassy and foggy. His face was flushed, contrasting with the pure white linens in which he laid. Despite the many blankets spread on him, the detective was shaking like a leaf.

That was how she'd found him after breaking into the residence. Again.

Irene put a delicate hand on his forehead, surprised when he made no move to make it go away. On the contrary, he seemed relieved for the contact of the icy hand on his burning skin.

"Don't enjoy yourself too much, Irene." He muttered, stretching slowly before falling in a heap on the mattress.

A smile appeared on the thin lips of Irene. Chuckling slightly, she buried a hand in the hair of Holmes, who sighed in satisfaction.

"I could say the same for you, Sherlock."

Said Sherlock loosened eyelids briefly at the mention of his name, something that was rare.

At one time, calling themselves by their surnames was a way to stay away, to not care. But why? Now, they had feelings for each other, they could not phrase it verbally, they could at least express it with simple gestures.

"How exactly did you end up in such a condition?" Irene threw a pointed look at the multiples tissues lying around and under the bed, the discarded teacups. She sighed at the mess.

Sherlock heaved a sigh, tightening once again the blankets around him in a vain attempt to warm up.

"Merely an enthusiastic robber who saw fit to swim in the Thames at this time of year. After a fight that was most entertaining, I handed the miscreant to the good hands of Lestrade. " Narrated Sherlock with a thin smile.

Irene snorted in amusement, rising suddenly to remove her boots and coat. Sherlock squealed with indignation when she came to stick her cold body against his, closing the covers over them with a fluid gesture. The eyes of the detective widened in surprise, looking at the features of the young woman with suspicion.

"You... you're staying?"

"Of course I'm staying. You're not the only one sick. " She finished the sentence with a face deformed by a grimace, a sneeze about to explode in Holmes' face. 

Sherlock plastered his hands on his face, waiting for the disaster with apprehension. The eruption was ridiculously small and innocuous, pulling a squeaking sound from Irene, which caused the detective to giggle in a childish manner.   
It stopped short however when her hand slapped his cheek. His scowl met her innocent smile.

Grumbling under his breath, he turned to no longer cope with the incredibly annoying person that was Irene Adler. The move brought in fresh air in his fabric cocoon and he shuddered. He tried to get comfortable underneath the covers, gasping when she pressed her cold feet against his feverish skin.

"You are incredibly irritating." He sighed, yet accepting the touch.

"It strangely reminds me of someone." She giggled, encircling his chest with her arms. Sherlock felt the hair of the thief tickling his neck and he smiled, content.

Humming in response, Sherlock took Irene's hand in his own, already feeling sleep coming to claim his due.

"Goodnight, Irene."

Irene sighed happily, snuggling closer to her lover.

"Good night, Sherlock."


End file.
